Wednesday, January 04, 2017

No Riding Lawnmovers For Me!

"If the problem can be solved why worry?

If the problem cannot be solved worrying will do you no good."

~Santideva

Worry is a strange word. I have heard the word my whole life. My mother was a big worrier, and passed the activity on to me. I think it was literally a part of her DNA. I definitely have it in my blood, but I have a strange relationship with it. Sometimes I tend to worry most about things I have the most control of, while successfully ignoring things things I should pay more attention to. I back burner my health sometimes, as one such example. We are in our first house, the first house that belongs to us and the bank, after a lifetime of renting. Buying one's first home, is NOT for the faint of heart, and it is definitely a game for much younger people than Alan and I. And so, I worry daily.

Ideally we would have saved prior to our marriage, when we were 28 years old, and would have done the research and found what we could afford. If it wasn't on the immediate horizon, committing some money each month to a goal account, that would never be touched, would have been a good idea. We decided early that we probably wouldn't have children, so it should have made things easier. We didn't do that. We instead reconciled ourselves to be renters, and the trade off would be a car for each of us, and the ability to live in the Bay Area, close to all the things, and people we loved. We were fine.

And we were, then one day, while we were in the 14th year of living in a tiny cottege house, our 3rd home since 1990, we recieved a notice that the owner was taking the property back, and we needed to move. And I have mentioned before what came next. It was a HELL all it's own and has nothing to do, or at least very little, to do with where we are. We ended up in a modest, 3 bedroom house, with a pool, and some small challenges. Little things that need updating. But who, or what, born in 1962 doesn't need updating. That's the nice thing about being the same age as your house, you understand each other's creaky noises and sagging.

After a year here, it is time to refinance and put some of our debt back into our home through the equity we have earned this year. We sat down with the loan officier in December, and he loved the looks of our credit rating and all seems good, but the process is moving really slowly and there have been a few PUNKS along the way, like a premature letter denying the refinancing because of an awkward key stroke. But it's now moving along nicely... accept now the documents that the loan officer recently sent, are nowhere to be found on my computer. I am hoping it is another awkward key stroke. Sigh. I don't know. 2016 was a shitty year, so maybe there is an evil elf with one lastfuck you for us. Maybe there is nothing at all to worry about! People refinance all the time, espcially to pull equity to pay off bills. So, I am probably worrying for nothing.

Right?

What does all this have to do with my set of I Love Lucy dolls? Simple. I like to fall asleep to episodes of I Love Lucy, on the Hallmark channel. The show had been off the channel since the day before Halloween, for Hallmark to do their annual Christmas Non-Stop-A-Polooza. All Christmas movies, 24/7 since before Halloween, and after the last New Year's hangover aspirin has been taken. And I am so ready to have her back! You can't have nightmares, when you have Lucy and Ethel to escort you off to sleep. And you can't worry if you concentrate during your waking hours on how Lucy would manage to get herself in such ridiculous jams, and find her way back out, without giving a moment to the mind and body murderer... worry.

Yes, I Love Lucy is indeed just a show. A set of circumstances resolved in 23 minutes or so, but she packed a lot of unique circumstances into those 23 moments. Will I ever find myself in a spacewoman costume climbing along the edge of the Empire State Building? No. Will I ever have to be lowered down onto the deck of a luxury ocean-liner because I missed the ship? No. Will I ever get stuck on an out of control lawnmower on the Boston Post road? No! Because of Lucy, and that cautionary tale, I will never own one of those God forsaken riding mowers! See, I am smarter already! So, as I get through the next few weeks, until they put the check in our hands, and I pay off those strangling bills, I just need to stop worrying, and concentrate on Lucy, and what she would do! Would Lucy worry? Nah... she would go an buy a hat! Maybe I just need a hat!